It Could Be Lethal
by mondlers
Summary: When Phoebe moves out and Monica seeks out Chandler for comfort, they find themselves in an unusual predicament as they step over that delicate line between friendship and something more. Soon, they find themselves in a confusing dance, infused with jealousy and uncertainty, each of them trying to decide if going after their best friend is worth all of what's at stake. (Pre-S1)
1. Chapter 1

"Hello!" With a chipper hop in his step, Chandler opened the apartment door without so much as a knock. After all, it was practically his place too at this point. Spotting the familiar dark-haired girl, wrapped in towels after a shower, Chandler pointed to her. "Do you have any beers? We're out of beers."  
His cheerful mood made Monica's bland response seem that much flatter. "Help yourself," she mumbled as she began to retreat to her room without a second glance. Halting his enthusiasm, Chandler pushed the thoughts of Baywatch and his cool new roommate aside to quickly focus his concerns on his friend.

"You okay?"

It seemed like a simple enough inquiry but as Monica's face contorted between sadness and disappointment, it became obvious that it was actually a very loaded question. Chandler waited patiently as Monica found her words, arms wrapping protectively around her small frame.

"Phoebe moved out," she mumbled as she looked to Chandler, hurt in her normally vibrant blue eyes.

"Right." He paused for a hanging moment. He'd known about Phoebe since Ross spilled the beans last week and also knew it would find its way to Monica in time, but that didn't make her current demeanor any easier to swallow.

"I don't understand. Am I so hard to live with?" He saw the familiar panic and doubt settling into Monica as she begged him for answers. "Is this why I don't have a boyfriend?"

"No!" It was instinctive and he searched his brain to find the right words, although it was doubtful he would. He never seemed to say the right thing. "You don't have a boyfriend because..." He laughed nervously, stalling. "I-I don't know why you don't have a boyfriend," Chandler confessed. "You _should_ have a boyfriend."

He waited for her response anxiously, unsure if his words were helpful in the slightest. Monica curled into herself slightly and sent Chandler a timid look. "Well I think so," she replied in a small voice.

"Come here." His arms outstretched to envelope her in a hug as he fought off the small bubble of laughter that had been provoked by her endearing answer. "Come here, listen. You are one of my favorite people and the most beautiful woman I've ever known in real life."

There was nothing but sincerity behind his words and Chandler prayed that she could see that. For as hard headed as she could be at times, Monica knew him well enough, and as she leaned into his embrace further, he knew he'd been well received.

She was significantly shorter than him and he easily rested his chin on her head as they swayed slightly, her damp hair cool against his skin. There was a sense of peace in the act that was foreign to him. He'd never been someone who'd found comfort in physical contact yet he felt completely at ease with Monica tucked against his lanky body. There was something strangely freeing and intimate about it that he couldn't quite put his finger on, although he wasn't highly concerned with the reason behind it.

His throat buzzed with a content hum. "This is nice," he admitted frankly. And there it was; his fumble with words he has seen coming since he'd first asked if she was okay. With Chandler, it always seemed to be a matter of when rather than if he would say something stupid.

"I know it is, isn't it?"

A small sense of panic set in and Chandler was caught between embarrassment over his admission and happiness over hers. Did she mean it? And what if she did, what the hell did that mean? His body shifted nervously against her and he fought his thoughts for a long, silent moment.

"No, I mean it this feels really good," he continued, a different plan forming in mind now in hopes of easing the knot tight in his stomach. "Is it 100% cotton?"

"Yeah," she chuckled, looking up at him with the brightness returning to her gaze. It was a pleasant sight and knowing that his joke was dissolving an awkward moment made him relax once again. "And I got it on sale too," she added.

His own laughter filled the apartment and he stared down at the girl holding him. There was a special kind of adoration that he harbored for Monica. They were polar opposites at times and identical at others. He was constantly reminded of why he liked her so much and as he reveled in the victory of cheering her up, he noticed the looks she was returning.

Swallowing hard, two pairs of blue eyes held one another and a weird sensation stirred in his chest. Why was she looking at him like that? And why was he looking at her the same way? Friends don't hold each other and stare longingly at one another, and yet, there they were, arms enveloping one another and the silence of the apartment seemed deafening.

Had she been serious with her response to his outburst? She couldn't be, it was Monica, after all. His best friend's little sister and one of his nearest and dearest friends. And yet, despite her slow and deliberate movements, Chandler couldn't seem to catch up with what she was doing next. Pushing herself upwards onto her toes to make herself taller, Monica looked at him with caution and curiosity in her eyes before they fluttered closed.

He was greeted with a warm, gentle kiss that he made no effort to retreat from. It was chaste and innocent enough yet no less shocking than if she had flung herself on him and jumped his bones. Against everything his brain was telling him, Chandler allowed the kiss to continue and felt a small prick of disappointment when the embrace finally broke. Monica made no moves to further herself from Chandler and instead stayed locked close to him. However, as if the exchange was just then becoming real to her, he watched as her gaze averted and her body tensed in his arms.

"I'm sorry," she muttered; untangling from Chandler and taking a step backwards, thin fingers sweeping nervously through her dark hair. For a passing moment, he swore he was disappointed. Albeit thoroughly confused, it was not enough to keep him from abruptly stopping whatever the hell was going on.

"I should go," he said hurriedly. His fingers swept across his lips that still had the remnants of her kiss lingering on them. Pressing his mouth into a hard line, he took a sharp step away. "One of the lifeguards was just about to dismantle a nuclear device."

Through small bouts nervous laughter and backwards glances, Chandler made his way to the door. He half expected Monica to stop him and demand that they talk out the situation but as his eyes flitted back and forth between the door and the girl he was fleeing from, he saw the same confused and concerned look that he wore etched across her features.

"Listen," he spoke up, his hand resting uneasily on the doorknob, gripping it far tighter than necessary. "It's-it's gonna be-"

 _It's gonna be okay_ , he tried to spit out but Monica interrupted before he could fumble out the words.

"I know." A small smile graced her lips. "Thanks."

Chandler's grip loosened and he pulled open the door to the hall, quickly closing it behind him. An exasperated breath puffed from his lungs loudly and he was left alone with his racing thoughts. They overwhelmed him but he knew he'd been gone far too long already. He didn't need Joey asking questions about his whereabouts – he wouldn't even know what to say if he asked. Pacing briefly, he collected himself until he was calm enough to return to his apartment with a straight face.

* * *

The couch was far from comfortable but it wasn't the stiff cushions that had Chandler tossing and turning all night. His room had felt suffocating for whatever reason and the couch and television seemed like a good alternative. He could easily lull to sleep watching bad news and sprawling out underneath his comfiest blanket, right?

Wrong.

Chandler's mind had no intentions of allowing him any sleep. As the news flashed across the worn television set, the couch creaked and squeaked under his incessant shifting. Stuck on overdrive, more so than usual at least, his thoughts had been focused on the unexpected moment he had shared with Monica and the frustration he felt over not being able to stop thinking about it.

Grumbling unhappily, he tossed off his blanket and stood up groggily, deciding to attempt his bedroom once again to see if he'd have any luck. Scooping his pillow and the blanket into his arms, he had to stop and listen when he thought he heard a noise.

Taking a step backwards and turning off the television to hear better, he was statuesque, standing completely still and listening again. There was the faint patter of footsteps directly outside of the front door. Placing his belongings back on the couch soundlessly, careful steps led him to the door in near silence.

Admittedly nervous, an unsteady hand grasped the doorknob and opened it unsurely. Chandler peeked out into the dark hall for a moment for his eyes fell on someone just across the way. His uneasiness settled as he narrowed his eyes to see better and made out who the figure was.

"Mon?"

She turned immediately and offered him a sheepish smile. Holding her robe tightly around her body, she looked uncomfortable as she took a few reluctant steps back towards his apartment.

"Sorry, I thought maybe-" She paused and Chandler waited for her to finish her thought, curious.

"Thought maybe you'd give me a heart attack by making me think there was an intruder?" he offered with a quiet chuckle. "I know you're upset but you can't kill me and take my apartment, no matter how hot you think Joey is."

Black hair cascaded downwards as she dipped her head to laugh. Covering her mouth to quiet herself, Chandler was reminded of the time. Peeking backwards into the kitchen, the stove clock read 2:31am. Allowing the sleepiness to fall over him once again now that the adrenaline of the moment had faded, Chandler leaned lazily against his door frame. He was brimming with curiosity but he didn't dare give it away by acting like…well, like his usual, spastic self. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I didn't know if you'd be awake," she explained with another step closer, her features growing more visible as she came near. "I just-um-well..."

"You're starting to sound like me," Chandler teased softly. He hoped it put her at ease. "What's up, Mon?"

She remained silent and looked unsettled; scared even, and there was a small part of him that hoped he was the reason just as she was to blame for his sleepless night. The passing thought was absurd but inhibited him nonetheless.

He was given an answer in time, but not in any way he'd anticipated. It wasn't with another vague reply or stuttered sentence. No, he was answered with a moment so charged, he was almost knocked off of his feet – although truthfully Monica was at fault as she took one long step and flung her arms around his shoulders, nearly pushing him over with her enthusiasm.

He caught her with little grace and had only just regained his balance when she kissed him again, this time fevered and passionate. Entangled and stumbling into his apartment, he felt the heat rush to his face and Chandler's hands instinctively steadied Monica in his embrace. As the two of them clamored into the kitchen, the room seemingly spinning around them, Chandler got the impression that there was going to be a different reason for a sleepless night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chandler stared at his bedroom ceiling so intently, he was hoping that if he stared hard and long enough, it could somehow give him a sign that would answer all of the million questions swirling around wildly in his mind. But of course, the ceiling provided not ethereal signs and Chandler was left glaring upwards for what felt like ages, clueless.

Finally looking down, he took in the sight of her. Monica's arms draped over his torso and her small frame curled against his as if she fit his body in all the right ways. He had always thought she was stunning but this felt different in an indescribable way; far different than her obvious aesthetic beauty. There was something about the way he'd seen her last night.

He allowed himself to get lost in the memories plaguing his mind. He swore he could still feel the gentle curve of her body as it pressed impossibly close to his and the hot trails her fingertips left behind as she found every inch of his skin. He could hear his name falling from her lips as they trailed along his jaw line and neck. The image of the content look on her face as they settled into a few short hours of much needed sleep seemed to be burned into the back of his eyelids. The thoughts made him shiver as he lay in his bed, still half clothed and tangled up with Monica under his heavy comforter.

Chandler felt strangely at peace and completely unsettled at the same time. Monica's presence was both calming and disruptive and he tried to understand how that could be. He knew the implications of their situation; after all, he had just slept with his best friend's sister, who just so happened to also be another one of his best friends on top of it all. The idea of Ross finding out about this made Chandler's stomach curl into a tighter knot, which he didn't believe was possible.

As if she could sense his discomfort, Monica woke with a few short yawns, a small stretch and a weakly mumbled "good morning". Blue eyes, half open, found Chandler as he sat up next to her with worry no doubt lining his features. In the typical Chandler fashion, he offered her nothing but a look of sheer confusion knowing full well that if he spoke up he was going to say something stupid.

As she sat up to join him, his t-shirt hung off her loosely and the sight provoked a funny feeling in his stomach. Shielding her lower half with the covers, abashed, it seemed like the more she woke up the more she grew to Chandler's current state of being: shock, confusion and a thousand other emotions he couldn't pin down.

"Nothing like tackling a major life crisis before 8:00am, am I right?" The question fell from him without a second thought and, while joking and basically harmless, it provoked a deep blush of embarrassment to ignite Chandler's face with color. If Monica wasn't half naked under it, he'd have buried himself under the comforter and never came out.

Her gentle laughter eased some of his worries but certainly didn't calm him all together. She looked as shaken as him, her bright eyes searching around his room as if she'd never been in there. Hell, she'd been in there more times than he could recall right then, but never, _never_ in this situation.

"We should talk about this," she declared. Her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath and she turned to face Chandler completely.

"Yeah because that'll get us far," he countered. "Conversation is clearly my strong point."

"I'm serious, Chandler." Monica scolded him with a stern look and he returned an apologetic one. "We have to talk about this."

"Sorry," he murmured. "You're right. But-" He paused. "Well, can I at least get a shirt and pants on first?"

"That'll probably make this easier," she replied with a weak smile.

Hopping briskly out of his bed, he became abundantly aware of how exposed he felt in just his boxers. Scurrying to collect and shirt and pair of sweatpants, he hopped back into his clothing that he'd lost somewhere in the night and planted himself across the room from her. He avoided Monica as he realized she too was finding her discarded clothing, although she was still drowning in his white t-shirt.

"That's better," Monica admitted as she draped her robe over her shoulders and tied it securely around her tiny waist. She paused, holding the fabric tightly as she looked to Chandler. It made him nervous. "This doesn't have to be weird, right? I mean, these things happen all the time."

 _Do they?_ He wondered. He'd never once slept with a close friend, albeit he hadn't slept with many women in general and his close friends consisted of two dudes and a girl he saw like a sister; and then there was Monica. The truthful answer to her question was that it was already weird and it was impossible to go back. But the short answer seemed to be the one she was fishing for and the one Chandler had to dish out.

"No, it totally doesn't" he replied with a scoff. He shrugged and fought off the urge to burst open with the truth. That he'd really enjoyed last night, and not just for the obvious reasons. Seeing her beside him this morning, you know before the gravity of the situation settled in, he hadn't felt that at peace in a long time. For someone who was always at war with himself, that was kind of a big deal.

"It's just too complicated, you know?" Monica sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than Chandler but he felt as if that was just his own wishful thinking. "I mean, the gang…it'd be a mess."

She was right but it didn't dissolve the small rush of disappointment that hit him. Why on Earth did he care so much if he ever got to sleep with Monica again? Before yesterday, the thought had barely touched his mind, and now it was all he could think about. He mentally kicked himself for being so weird about the current predicament and knew what his answer needed to be; for both their sakes.

"You're right," Chandler admitted with a weak laugh. She was. Their friends were the best people he knew but they were also notoriously meddlesome and wouldn't hesitate to involve themselves fully if a relationship blossomed within the group. "You have to admit, last night was kind of _really_ awesome."

"I don't have to admit anything," she said through soft laughter and Chandler watched as her cheeks filled with color. "C'mon," she pressed on hurriedly. "Help me find my stuff. I need to get back to my room before Joey wakes up." Chandler wanted to argue that Joey probably wouldn't be up until well after noon but he felt that urging her to stay would only complicate things more than they already were.

Finding Monica's undergarments was surprisingly not weird; even saying goodbye to her as she hurried across the hall quietly wasn't so bad. No, the weird part was the feeling that settled in after Chandler had closed his door and was left alone in his kitchen, just like he had been the night prior, before all of this had happened. It felt so very different.

Knowing sleep was not an option, he idly made himself a cup of coffee and sat himself at the counter, sipping on it as he mulled over the fluttering feeling in his chest that just wouldn't go away. It bothered him to no end. Chandler knew full well what it meant but he couldn't bring himself to truly believe it for a long time. As the time passed and one cup of coffee turned to two and then three, he continued to deny the obvious truth sitting right in front of him. He sat there alone with his thoughts for God knows how long, and fought against everything his heart and mind were telling him because there was no way in hell he was falling for his best friend. He couldn't be.


	3. Chapter 3

"No way! Paul the Wine guy?!"

Phoebe's voice carried well over the other chatter in the bistro. With the old bar being converted into a coffee house for the past few months, the gang was forced to find a new place to hang out and apparently Phoebe hadn't gotten used to the change in speaking levels just yet. Or she was just that excited about the hunky guy Monica worked with. Chandler sat across the table from Phoebe, giving his blonde friend a look of confusion.

" _Phoebe_ ," Monica scolded their friend; her cheeks tinged a light shade of pink. "Say it a _little_ louder I don't think the homeless people in Central Park heard you."

"Well I'm sorry but he is _cute_." Phoebe offered an apologetic look that was lined with her usual innocence, pressing her lips together tightly.

"I know!" Monica reached a hand across the table and cusped Phoebe's in her own as they gushed over Paul the Wine Guy, whom Chandler had only, until now, heard of in passing. "But," Monica continued, giving the blonde a warning look. "It's not even, like, a date. So I don't want to get ahead of myself."

The word _date_ seemed to leave a bad taste in Chandler's mouth and he fought the scowl that threatened to spread across his face. He wasn't going to deny himself the fact that he was jealous; that seemed trivial, especially after he'd finally come to terms with knowing the night with Monica those few months earlier had meant much more to him than her.

And yet while Monica went on telling Phoebe wonderful things about a man Chandler had never even met, he found himself working against the aching to leave and remove himself from the conversation completely. They had an image to maintain though; he had promised Monica things wouldn't be weird and he owed her that much to keep himself composed. After all, it was just a date, even if Monica assured them it wasn't.

"Hey guys," Joey interrupted as he entered the bistro. Thankful to have his roommate, and friend for that matter, now at the table, he hoped the topic would drop. "Sorry, it took me like, ten minutes to find this place. It's kind of tucked away, huh?"

"It's right down the street from the bar, Joe," Chandler stated with little kindness. Feeling guilty for the sour reply, he tapped the seat next to him at the table. "You haven't talked to Ross have you, man?" Joey shook his head.

"He's probably still at his place packing things up," Monica suggested with a solemn expression. Through his own worries, Chandler had completely forgotten about Ross and his marriage, or soon enough, the lack thereof one. For as much as his friend's misfortune sucked, it acted as the perfect getaway for Chandler.

"I'm gonna go check on him," Chandler explained as he got to his feet and threw on his jacket.

"I just got here," Joey complained, looking at his friend in disbelief.

"I'll catch you at the apartment later, no big deal."

"I have an audition later and then a date," Joey challenged him, a suggestive look following. "I won't be home until late."

Chandler hesitated for a moment, thought, and took another step towards the door, talking to Joey from over his shoulder.

"Tomorrow then," he offered. With a wave goodbye, Chandler left the bistro and made the familiar walk down the street towards his apartment building. It was a short enough walk but seemed to never end with the idea sitting in the front of his mind. If Monica was going to date, so was he. It was the only way he'd be able to get past this silly crush on her. And he knew exactly who to call.

* * *

Not to keep up appearances but out of general concern, Chandler actually did stop to see Ross after he'd attended to his own business. Upon his arrival, Ross was slouched so low on his couch, Chandler thought he might just slid right off it and onto the floor. He helped pack a few things up, awkwardly avoiding anything that may be Susan's, although most of Ross's things were obvious: anything dorky or prehistoric was usually a good bet.

Not only was he helping out a friend but it gave Chandler a good distraction and made his afternoon move by that much quicker. He was strangely excited for the evening to come and even found himself smiling as he left Ross's. That alone lifted his hopes for moving on from whatever unreasonable infatuation he had for Monica.

It wasn't until Chandler got home that things really started to settle in. He'd spent a majority of his fall pining over a girl he'd spent one night with and hadn't even thought twice about going out there and finding someone else. He knew having her around all the time was what kept him clinging on but he couldn't bring himself to separate from the group. If seeing his friends all the time meant dealing with his feelings head on, well, he'd do it time and time again. And he had. Each gathering seemed secretly strained inside Chandler's mind as he battled his own stupid emotions while everyone went on living their lives. In retrospect, allowing himself to get so wrapped up in the idea of Monica seemed like such wasted time, especially when he was this thrilled to be going out somewhere and not stuck at home, alone with his thoughts.

Finding his favorite button-up and even giving his jeans an extra run in the dry cycle, just to be sure they looked neat and clean, Chandler was oddly content with how he looked and felt for his date. His usual nerves were there, sure, but they seemed underwhelming in comparison to how good it felt to get out there again.

Janice seemed like a promising date. He'd only met her in passing at the bar, but she was beautiful, friendly and had accepted his request for her number, which was a step further than he got with most girls. Looking at her number on his kitchen counter, he grabbed the scrap of paper and placed it in his pocket for safekeeping. Her neat cursive handwriting was like a small window into her personality and he could only hope tonight would go as well as he needed it to.

And that was when he felt the small flutter in his chest dim subtly. He was undeniably happy about this but he began to ask himself if it was because he actually was excited or if he _needed_ to be; for his own sake. Never the type to fall further than his nerves and commitment issues would allow him, the feelings he harbored for Monica were well past anything he'd felt for any other girl. Truthfully, they were hardly past a lingering crush but to Chandler, or so he told himself, yet it had felt like he was walking down the aisle getting ready to say 'I do'. As if the universe was peeking in on his frazzled thoughts, a knock came at the door and as he opened it, he found the last person he expected on the other side.

"Monica, hey," Chandler greeted her, his voice faltering a bit at the surprise. Taking a quick look over her, he immediately noticed she was in the robe she'd been wearing that night and had her hair pulled loosely into a ponytail. Looking down at his watch and then back up at Monica, Chandler gave her a puzzled look. "Why aren't you out on your 'not-date' with Paul the Wine Guy?"

"I cancelled," she admitted after a long pause. Crossing her arms over her chest, she put up a protective stance. "I just wasn't feeling it, I don't think. Plus, he just got divorced not too long ago, so maybe another time is better."

All Chandler could do was nod solemnly. What was he supposed to say? That he was glad she cancelled? That he hated the idea of them going out and that she shouldn't even consider it for another time? Swallowing the small lump in his throat, he brushed his bangs back away from his eyes and asked the question that was biting at his mind.

"So, um, what's up? Did you need something?"

She looked unsettled by his question and he watched as she shifted on the balls of her feet. A small chuckle escaped her and her smile seemed uneasy, scared even. Blue eyes watched intently as she worked through whatever was plaguing her mind in that moment.

"I was wondering if maybe we could hang out," she said finally. Maybe it was his mind making things up but the statement seemed lined with implications. He felt his heart pick up at her words and fall as soon as he remembered the paper resting in his back pocket and the coat on his counter top. He had plans.

"I actually…crap, Mon," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Offering her an apologetic look, Chandler's lips pressed together into a hard line and glanced back into his apartment as if someone could swoop in and awkwardly answer for him. "I sort of…"

Balancing on her tiptoes, Monica looked past Chandler and into his apartment. On his counter laid some cash, his jacket and the keys to his apartment, ready to leave for his date. She settled back onto her heels and smiled at him, though he swore she looked disappointed.

"I've got plans," he admitted, purposely avoiding the word _date_ , although it felt obvious at his point. "I'm sorry."

Was this the universe's idea of some sick joke? More than anything, he wanted to call Janice and cancel, to come up with some lame excuse as to why he couldn't make it. But it was already too late; he was meant to be on his way to her already and she deserved far better than that. He swallowed again, his throat dry with words he wanted to say, and shoved his hands into his pockets, the slip of paper with Janice's number on it acting as a reminder.

"No, don't be sorry," Monica assured him, seeming sincere enough. Her hand found a place on his forearm and she smiled up at him, adoration in her eyes that seemed to turn Chandler's stomach into a mess of knots. "You look really nice."

"Thanks," he murmured, finding it hard to find his voice. He lingered in silence for a long moment, just enjoying her presence, before he remembered the time crunch he was in. The prolonged moment was doing no favors for his whole 'moving on' thing either. "I'll talk to you when I get back?"

Monica nodded with a small smile. Without a real goodbye, she wandered back to her apartment and he clumsily gathered his belongings, unable to find his equilibrium with his body tingling with anxiety. He locked his door and turned to leave for the cab when he caught a glimpse of Monica standing in her half-opened doorway.

"Have a good time," she smiled. "Let me know how it goes."

With another stiff nod and another forced smile, Chandler was on his way to meet Janice. Fighting himself the entire way, part of him tried bounding back up the stairs to Monica while the other urged him towards the healthy and better alternative. He even considered turning the cab around a few times but never actually followed through. He hated himself for that.


	4. Chapter 4

Chandler might never understand how it happened but come New Year's Eve, he found himself hand in hand with Janice, arriving at Monica's party just in time for the ball drop. What was even harder to fathom was how simple it really was.

He never expected anything much to come from that date those few months back. He remembered the panic after his encounter with Monica, the overwhelming urge to cancel completely just for a night in with his friend. So maybe it was true that everything happens for a reason because had he not sucked it up and forced himself to go out that night, he might never have had a chance with Janice.

She was a lot of things: outgoing, outspoken and at times, outrageous. Actually, Janice was the exact opposite of Chandler and he strangely liked it; it seemed to compliment him. Sure, she talked a lot sometimes and some of his wittier jokes went over her head but she listened and cared and that was all he really focused on.

While his friends were fairly vocal about their true opinions of his girlfriend, Chandler often paid little mind. Maybe it wasn't true love, or anything of real, life-changing substance, but he enjoyed Janice's company. It's not like he was ever going to get married or do any of those normal couple things anyways; his personality and dating streak were going to make sure of that. So while he had her, he was going to have fun with Janice and make the best of it.

Stunning in a dark blue dress, Janice kept a loose grasp on Chandler's hand and followed him into the familiar apartment where all of their friends had already gathered. Joey wasted no time, pouncing on Chandler before he could even get his coat off and embracing him in a bear hug. Laughing weakly thanks to the firm hold Joey had on him, Chandler had to wait until he was free to speak up.

"What's up, Joe?" Greeting his roommate happily, he took Janice's coat in his arm and placed it on top of his own on the back of the couch. With a firm pat on the back, he smiled genuinely, glad to see his friend. Chandler watched idly as Janice found someone in the living room and left him, offering a smile as she departed. "Sorry I wasn't home to come over with you earlier. Janice and I went out to dinner at that new steak house down the street."

"Yeah, well no big deal. Pheebs and I made it work. I'm about-" Joey lifted his red cup and shook it gently. "-four of these bad boys in." The cheesy smile that graced his roommate's face was laughable and Chandler began to realize how little of Joey - and all of his friends for that matter - he'd seen lately. He'd been around plenty, living with Joey and across the hall from Monica made that easy, but he couldn't remember the last time he stayed in and watched Baywatch or wandered across the hall for a nice home cooked meal.

"About time I caught up to you, don't you think?" Chandler challenged with a mischievous smirk. Eyes wandering momentarily before finding the cups and drinks on the kitchen counter behind him, Chandler wasted no time in making a rum and soda. Normally content with beer, New Year's called for celebration and bloated beer belly didn't sound appealing tonight. "By the way, where is everyone?"

He took note of familiar and unfamiliar faces alike as he glanced around the apartment, unable to find Ross making awkward and unfortunate small talk with one of Monica's friends or Phoebe explaining to some unknowing stranger the benefits of cleansing your aura on a bi-weekly basis. Namely, there was no dark haired hostess rushing around frantically to make sure each cup was filled and every need was met.

"Phoebe went to find Monica not too long ago so she wouldn't miss the ball drop," Joey explained. Taking a quick look around the room himself, he offered Chandler a shrug and a look of uncertainty.

Fingers rapping on the outside of his plastic cup, Chandler felt strange about their absence. Maybe it was because he felt like he hadn't really seen them in quite some time or maybe it was just curiosity, but he allowed himself to leave Joey with his drink and the girl who had been making eyes at him for the past few minutes. Watching her swoop in as soon as Chandler was clear of Joey, he laughed as he made his way through the maze of people.

Before he could get far though, the countdown was being announced. Snatched up by Janice almost immediately, a lanky arm looping through his own and offering a soft caress of her hand, Chandler smiled as Janice stole his attention.

"It's almost time to _Bing_ in the new year," Chandler joked, emphasizing the pun. Janice placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and he quickly forgot the task at hand to focus on kissing his girlfriend when the clock hit midnight. The party stirred around them with the impending ball drop and Chandler felt strangely excited.

It had been another long, weird year for him but it was ending on a high note: surrounded by his girlfriend and best friends. Well, almost. Scooping an arm around Janice's waist as she began counting down from 60 with the rest of the party, her voice ringing loud well over the others, Chandler glanced somewhat anxiously around the party, looking for any one from the gang.

He promptly found Joey disregarding the New Year's tradition, kissing the girl that had taken his place earlier. Stifling a laugh, Chandler's blue eyes set sights out for a head of blonde hair or either of the Gellers. It wasn't until the group was counting down the last 15 seconds that Monica and Phoebe came into sight, emerging from Monica's room.

Setting his weight on the balls of his feet, Chandler waved excitedly but it went unnoticed. Falling back to his heels, he fought off a disappointed frown before his lips were engaged in another, much more preferable act. Planting a firm kiss on his mouth, Chandler was startled by Janice initially before he realized what was happening and melted into the kiss.

A small flutter of excitement filled Chandler's insides and he littered a few more soft pecks on Janice before he retreated from the exchange. Smiling gently, he muttered a soft "Happy New Year" to Janice who fell into her signature cackle. It still jostled him sometimes but it wasn't her projected laughter that shocked Chandler.

Looking at all of the celebration around the room, it was easy to pick out Monica. She looked as if she'd been crying. Blue eyes puffy and tinged a shade of pink looked over at Phoebe who wore an uncharacteristic grimace. Again, Chandler tiptoed upwards to try and get a better look at what was happening but was unsuccessful, only catching glimpses of his friends.

"What are you doing?"

For those few moments, Chandler had forgotten that Janice was still linked around his forearm. Back on flat feet, he looked at her, confused.

"What?"

"What are you looking around for?" Janice asked, her features lined with confusion.

"Monica," Chandler muttered, still making an effort to get a good look. "She looks...sad."

"I bet she does," Janice scoffed.

"What?" Chandler repeated. He directed his attention to Janice who looked significantly less chipper now.

"Well she's probably upset with me," his girlfriend said matter-a-factly, her eyes rolling indignantly. "Green may look good on her but jealousy really doesn't."

"Okay, you've lost me." Taking a sharp step back, Chandler squared himself in front of Janice and focused his energy on her. Looking unsurely at those dark brown eyes, he tried to hide the urgency in his gaze.

"Chandler. _Honey_." Janice scoffed again in disbelief. "Do you really not know?"

He shook his head stiffly.

"Oh. My. God." Flipping long, brunette locks over her shoulder, Janice looked as if she was preparing to drop a bomb on Chandler. He wasn't sure he was totally prepared. "Chandler, she's so obvious. Always giving me looks when I'm hanging out with you and she won't say two words to me, you know. She's clearly jealous that you're dating me and not her."

"Wait. Wha-" Chandler began but he was quickly cut off.

"And I could _totally_ be a crazy girlfriend and tell you not to hang out with her but you're so gaga over me, my little Bing-a-ling," she cooed as she tapped his shoulder playfully. "I know I don't need to worry."

He knew he should respond. Just a simple nod to assure his girlfriend that he was all hers but his heart had different plans. It was in overdrive, pounding heavily in his chest and echoing into his ears. He could feel his face changing from shock to uncertainty and back again.

Janice's words didn't sit well. Not because they were undesired but because they didn't seem real. For months now, Chandler had been certain that he was well over Monica. Things felt as normal as they could. And just like that, like the flip of a switch, he felt the familiar swell of his heart, that sensation that made his chest feel like it was full of helium.

"You look upset, honey." Janice startled him away from his thoughts and Chandler nearly jumped when she placed a loving hand on his chest. "I didn't mean to make things awkward. I know she's your friend or whatever."

"No, no, it's-uh…" He had no words and no idea what to do or think in that moment. Stammering, he fought to sound casual as he replied despite the battle of emotions and confusion going down inside his mind. "It's okay. Just weird to think about."

Swallowing hard, he gave Janice a tightlipped smile and gave her a reassuring hug. His stomach knotted with confusion as he held his embrace on her and pressed his lips to her forehead. Taking the opportunity with her tucked against him, blue eyes wandered across the party in search of Monica once more.


End file.
